Open Doors
by Shuiro Ecstacy
Summary: No matter what, Cloud can feel nothing but pain. It was only a matter of time before his one and only pain-reliever finally showed up.
1. OD: Chapter 1

Another one of my random sit-down-and-write oneshots.  
Written from 10:45 - 12:04.

Enjoy!

My eyes burn even more so than the last time this happened. My chest is throbbing from my ever-breaking heart. My lungs are tired after gasping for air. It's unbearable, this pain. It's what keeps me awake every night, and even if I do happen to sleep, it's the nightmare that wakes me up.

I'm so afraid.

Even after countless discussions with Tifa, I refuse to let anyone in. I can never let them see me like this; it would change the way they thought of me forever. Wouldn't that make it worse?

But if I keep rejecting them, my worst fear will come true. I can't bear the thought of losing someone else… _anyone_ else. I would rather die myself.

I hear the church doors open. I don't turn around; I don't care who it is at the moment. Friend or foe, it wouldn't matter. Either way, I wouldn't pay attent–

"Cloud."

I know that voice. I feel my skin tighten as goosebumps make their way up my arms. There's a different, casual chill in the air now; when did it get so cold? Surely it couldn't be the open doors… _that_ couldn't make a difference.

He's closer now. I realize how quick he is, and I fear him for only a second. I suddenly realize how much attention I'm actually giving him as opposed to my earlier thoughts. I wonder why he changes my attitude so much more differently than everyone else I know.

I feel his presence. It's directly behind me… probably no more than two feet. I feel childish, sitting there, leaning over my knees. I fear he'll see my eyes; I fear he'll know my pain.

"You're hurt."

My distracted mind fools me for a moment, and I wonder if he means an injury. My lips part slightly in realization. _He's so much more intelligent than I give him credit for_. He does mean an injury, of course. He means heartache.

"To some extent." I imagine his eyes narrowing, which is probably exactly what he did.

"This is more than _that_, Cloud."

And then I see his eyes. They're focused on mine, and I look away like the idiot I am. He waits to see if I'll look back, and when I don't, he reaches up slowly with his right hand. Surprising me – and probably himself as well – he gently places his fingertips on the side of my jaw and turns my head to face the man kneeling in front of me again.

For some reason, my lungs don't cooperate with me. I feel like I've forgotten how to breathe, but I can't remember while I look in the only eyes I've seen with the color and spirit of fire put together. His hand slides up my cheek, and he's soon holding my face in his hand. By instinct, I cling to the comfort and, very, very slightly, nudge my head against his palm.

He chuckles at my reaction to his support, and I shiver. His laugh… so rare and quiet, yet so powerful and bright. It relaxes me, and I close my eyes. His hands are incredibly smooth, and surprisingly warm. I lift my hand and cover his, almost immediately regretting it. _He's going to pull away… he's going to pull away…_

I sigh when I feel his thumb brush against my finger. I try to remember the last time I ever saw him show any kind of affection towards anyone. I can't.

This confuses me, but even more so, it makes me curious. I open my eyes tiredly and slowly. He's still looking at me, and I know he hasn't looked away yet.

"Tell me… why do you care?"

He smiles, and my heart skips a beat. His lips… his perfect, delicate-looking lips are curved upwards ever so faintly. It's hard to tell if he's mocking me or if there's some other reason for his smile. And then I watch his lips part, but only a little, as they always do when he speaks.

"Because you need me to."

I don't remember asking him for sympathy, so I blink once, twice. And I realize he's right; even if I've never spoken the words, he's heard them all along.

_I need someone to care._

I've always needed someone to care. Even if they have, I've never felt it, because they've never shown it. The reason I was so surprised at his actions was because they were new to me. It had taken me a while to process everything because I've never had to think about it before.

Before I think for another second, I smile back. Something flashes in his eyes, and it takes me by surprise. What… what _was_ that?

It came again, and this time it stayed. I study him. I watch him long and hard, focused on his eyes, determined to know what it was I could see. It was so familiar… it was so… comforting.

My lips part again, this time a small gasp escapes my lips. It's… _passion_.

I recognize it from Tifa's eyes. That look she always gives me… the look I know that's telling me she loves me. She's fond of me, and she's letting me know with her eyes.

But why am I seeing it now in his eyes? Why would he show me this kind of emotion? Or, much less… why _me_?

There's question in my face; I can feel it. He can see it, and his smile returns.

"You wonder, don't you Cloud? You're confused."

I feel myself nod, and that lovely, chill-worthy chuckle comes back.

Then, without warning, I feel his hand move even more towards my neck. He pulls my head so I'm leaning forward. The same look is still in his eyes, only more powerful than before. I feel his other hand take my free hand that's resting on my knee; it feels just as comforting as the one on my neck.

And I feel more of his skin now… on my lips. My eyes reflex and close slowly. His so very, incredibly soft, marble lips are locked with mine. My stomach is twisting and turning like there's no tomorrow; the butterflies I have are driving me crazy. I adjust my hands slowly; my left hand slides down his arm, holding his upper arm. My right hand flips over and holds his hand.

He doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. I feel him smile for a third time, and it lets me know he's comfortable. I lean forward a bit, just to push my lips against his a little more. He responds by tilting his head to the side and forward. I feel his nose bump lightly against mine as his kiss depends.

Something about his actions makes me feel bold. I lift the hand on his arm to his neck and, before I can stop myself, I open my lips and close them again over his. To my surprise, he only strokes my neck with his thumb repeatedly.

I enjoy the fact that he allows me to do such a thing. I lift both of my arms this time and wrap them around his neck, leaning forward even more. I hear another chuckle climb from his throat as he places his hands on my sides just behind my rib cage. He pulls me forward and lays back into the patch of white and yellow flowers around us.

I'm lying on top of him, kissing him. My mind goes crazy at the thought, but I can't fight it. There's something about this man, kissing me, holding me, that feels right. It feels complete.

He slides his arms around me, one arm angled so the hand is on the upper part of my back, and the other arm wrapped around me as far as it could go. My hands are resting on his shoulders now, and I rub them slightly.

He mimics my action, opening his lips and closing them down on mine. I sigh in pleasure and excitement; I cannot get over how amazing it feels… to be cared for… to be loved.

Everything I'm thinking about dies when I feel his lips and mine pulling apart. I almost whine, but I catch myself. He sees my expression, complete with shock, appreciation, and desperation, and he laughs. It isn't a chuckle… it's an actual laugh, and I find myself smiling with him.

And then he's gone. I'm sitting up now, my knees bent. The places that had felt his touch are tingling with such energy that I find I can't stop smiling. The feeling of his touch is stained on my skin, and as I stand up for the first time in hours, I raise my hand to my cheek where he had first touched me.

I lift my head to look up at the sky above me. It's very bright, and I feel _happy_… something I haven't been able to claim as an emotion for quite some time.

I begin to think about what I'd just experienced. Obviously, he'd done it for a reason, and that reason was because… I needed it?

For some reason, it doesn't make as much sense as I would like. The last thing I need right now is more confusion. Still, though, there had to be something else.

I know he knows about my pain, my regret, my thoughts. But what I find the most perplexing is that he knew exactly what I needed to stop stressing. It was almost as if he…

I take in a short, unexpected breath. _Of course_. Memories… pain… regret… he felt it too. He knew what to do because it was what _he_ needed too.

I smile to myself and turn towards the doors, of which are still open.

I simply have to return the favor.


	2. OD: Chapter 2

A/N: I published this five months ago, thinking it would be a oneshot. But after so many requests to continue with it (and so many ideas on how to do so), I figured... why not? This, however, will probably the last chapter of the story. I _always_ welcome requests for oneshots... they're quick and easy. For now, enjoy the second chapter of _Open Doors_.

* * *

"Oh, Cloud, you just missed Vincent. He just stopped by about half an hour ago."

"I know," Cloud muttered as he sat down on a stool. "He found me at the church."

"Oh," Tifa replied quietly. She knew that tone; it either meant something was up and he didn't want to talk about it, or something was up that needed to be talked about. She took one good look at the expression on Cloud's face and decided it was both.

"Where did he go?"

"Good question."

Tifa tipped her head. "What happened?"

Cloud shook his head. "I'm not sure," came the whispered words. Tifa blinked and set down the bottle of water she'd been holding. She pulled up the stool she kept behind the counter and met Cloud's eye level.

"Bad?"

He shook his head again. "Just big."

"Mm," she hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I'm thinking your talk isn't over, and if Vincent knows any better – which I know he does – then he'd agree with me. Which means he can't be too far away."

Cloud shrugged. Tifa stood and placed her hands on her hipbones. "Don't give me that fake apathy." She bent over, resting her hands on her knees. "You need to go look for him. He didn't come here, and the only inn around is the Keeper Inn. There's no other place for him to go, Cloud. You know that."

* * *

"Yes sir, a Mr. Valentine signed in just this morning. Was he expecting you?" the elderly man behind the Keeper Inn front desk asked kindly. Cloud lifted his gaze from the top of the desk to meet the man's eyes.

"I think so, yes." He paused. "This morning?"

The man nodded with a smile. "Do you require a room as well, sir? Or will the two of you be sharing the original one?"

Cloud shook his head. "No, no. All I need is his room number now. I won't be staying."

The man looked at the sheet of paper again, adjusting his reading glasses as he did. "Ah, here we are. Room 271. Are you sure you won't need a key?"

Cloud pushed away from the desk and began making his way towards the stairs. "No," he said over his shoulder, "he'll know to let me in."

* * *

"Good to see you again so soon," Vincent murmured, holding the doorknob. "Come in?"

Cloud stepped forward as Vincent pulled the door open further. He heard it shut behind him, and he turned as he approached the pullout couch.

"Why didn't you stay at the Seventh Heaven?" Cloud inquired, staring at the couch. A soft rustling of fabric told him Vincent was closer behind him now.

"Why didn't you?"

The corner of Cloud's lips twitched up into a small smirk. He rubbed his gloved fingers, taking an easy, smooth breath in.

"I had to make a house call."

Vincent cocked an eyebrow. "Did you become a physician since I last saw you?"

Cloud chuckled quietly. "As a matter of fact…"

He turned, and his breath stopped short at the realization of how close Vincent had actually been, or maybe he had stepped forward at the perfect moment. Either way, they were closer than they had been in the church, and it was exactly how Cloud wanted it.

"I think I might have," he whispered with a smile. Vincent didn't stop Cloud as the younger male placed one hand on the elder's hip, the other following anon. No protest was made when Cloud pulled Vincent's body to his, the side of his face brushing gently against Vincent's.

Cloud leaned into Vincent's chest, affectionately nuzzling his ear with the tip of his nose once before placing his lips next to it.

"I had to return the favor."

There was no turning back now, and they both knew it. Cloud pulled his head back only far enough so that he could look Vincent in the eye. The older man stared back, waiting for what they both knew was coming.

Cloud moved his head forward, letting his eyelids drop so that his gaze was placed only on Vincent's lips. He pressed his forehead to Vincent's, then carefully let his lips tickle the others. He didn't apply pressure, but brushed his lips over Vincent's, as if to test him. Finally, he caught Vincent's lips with his, slightly pushing his head forward and locking into what seemed like a very long-awaited kiss. Vincent responded by tilting his head lightly, returning the motion of placing his hands on Cloud's hips.

He could feel it… Cloud could feel the desperate cling Vincent had held for so long. He was attached to hope… hooked on it like a drug. He had been waiting for this moment as long as Cloud had, but neither had expected it to be with the only person in the world that had kept the other living.

Vincent felt a chill travel down his spine as Cloud lifted a hand to brush strands of ebony hair behind his shoulder. When Cloud's simple hold of Vincent's body turned into an embrace, Vincent was enveloped in delightful warmth, and he smiled into the never-breaking kiss.

Cloud held Vincent as tightly but as gently as he could, for fear of breaking the most fragile person he knew. Vincent not only returned the embrace, but also lost himself in Cloud's, regretting and wishing that this had come sooner. How his life would have been different if it had, but fate was fate, and Vincent believed that was exactly what had brought the two standing in the hotel room together, sharing the well anticipated yet highly unexpected kiss.

Neither felt it was necessary to break apart. Neither wanted to, really. Cloud, however, had to return to the front desk. He made a phone call to Tifa, clarifying his overnight plans, and kindly explained to the man behind the desk that he had changed his mind; he'd be staying the night.

* * *

A/N: I realize this was rather short... but effective, no?

Again, if my Strifentine readers would like requests portrayed, I'd be more than happy to write for you. Writer's block is a pain, and thorough fic ideas would be more than helpful.


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